


we’ll get lost until we’re found

by theshipshipper



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/M, Time Travel, the logistics of this fic is confusing to me too but we’ll go with it haha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipshipper/pseuds/theshipshipper
Summary: It’s all insane to her, but somehow Sansa falls in love with a man from a time long before hers, and it... works out? Because Bran.—“What the hell are you talking about?” Arya burst out, just as confused. “What’s this flying and bloodraven thing? You’re not making any sense.”Bran huffed. “You won’t believe me even if I told you.”Arya rolled her eyes. “Bran, our sister is literally dating a damned book from however long ago. I think I’d believe anything at this point.”—Title from: Here We Go - Wild





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tubbylita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tubbylita/gifts).



> Prompt by Jen, based on [this post.](http://kendrapendragon.tumblr.com/post/177580863024/au-where-molly-reads-the-sherlock-holmes-books-and)
> 
> PS
> 
> I know I’ve been gone a while but I have updates and new fics coming in the next few days as an apology. Stay tuned!
> 
> I also hope you guys enjoy this! :D

It’s Arya who comes up with the plan to sneak into the  Wolfswood  Museum after hours and although Sansa wouldn’t normally agree to tag along with one of her sister’s reckless ideas, she does see the appeal of roaming around the place with no one else there.

Her family frequented the museum when she was younger and her father would  always  revel them in tales of their ancestors as they walked around. Now  thhey  know the stories by heart.

She hasn’t visited the place in a while,  though,  not since studying in King’s Landing, but she’s home for the summer and Arya thought she could try doing something crazy for a change, so there she was.

Somehow she’d ended up wandering in the Crypts; it’s her favorite part of the museum. She finds herself standing in front of one of the statues, the one of Jon Snow.

In  Westerosi  history, he’s referred to as the ‘Wolf with Dragon Scales’, the boy born amidst the war, the son of two warring families.

His mother and father had been a huge factor in the war that broke out before his birth, but he was the one to finally put an end to the chaos.

When the North rebelled years after Robert’s Rebellion had failed, where his mother’s entire family had been eradicated, the solution had been simple.

As a man who bore both the blood of the First Men and old  Valyria , Jon snow’s rise to the Northern throne had appeased the restless  Northmen  who sought for independence.

His story had always fascinated her in school and she’s thinking of this when she spots the odd crack at the foot of his statue.

She frown s .

She’s seen his statue many times and never noticed it before. Though the statues are aged, they’re all in pristine condition, which surprises Sansa that his would be any different.

She  kneels  down, studying the crack. Maybe she just hadn’t been looking carefully before.

She directs her phone’s light to the stone platform and realizes that it isn’t a crack but some sort of hidden compartment. It has an off glow to it.

She reache s  into it, seeing something hidden inside . It  takes a few minutes for her to maneuver  the item  out.

It’s a leather notebook, dusty and old, with  _ JS  _ engraved into its skin. She  let her fingers caress  the letters, wondering if it actually  is  Jon Snow’s.

If anyone from the museum knew about this, they would’ve added it to their collection or throw it out if it’s fake, which means that she could be the first person aside from who put it there to have seen this.

She flips through the pages gently, heart hammering as she read through the writings inside.

It seems to be a journal; it’s full of notes and reminders and she thinks she’d be able to make sense of most of it if she looked up the history online.

“This is really yours, isn’t it?” She whisper s,  turning to the statue as though it would answer.

“ _ Sansa _ .” The sound of her name startles her, thinking it must’ve been him who had spoken.

But it couldn’t be.

“There you are.” Robb taps her on the shoulder, startling her back into reality. “I’ve been looking all over for you. We  gotta  go, it’s almost sunrise. The guards would catch us if we leave any later.”

“Oh. Right.” She tucks the journal to her side and she’s glad her brother doesn’t ask what it is. “Let’s go, then.”

She doesn’t get to check the journal until the weekend after all the family events die down. Summer vacations used to be pretty  lowkey  in the Stark household, but things changed after most of the kids have gone to college.

Now it’s only  Rickon  still living at home, so their parents are keen on making the summer vacation worthwhile for the rest of them.

She j umps  into her old twin bed, tucking herself under the covers before she took out the journal she’d hidden in her drawer.

As she flip s  through the pages, she  can  feel herself getting nervous. It feels momentous, like there’s something significant that she’s missing here.

From what she can tell, Jon Snow started writing in the journal at the beginning of his reign. Sometimes he wrote reminders of things to improve in Winterfell and other times he wrote self-reflections and how he could improve as a ruler.

As Sansa continue s  to read, she s ees  a glimpse of a young King burdened by the weight of the crown.

She knows that Jon Snow was young at the beginning of his rule, somewhere in his early twenties, but she could sense the exhaustion in his writings.

It’s sometime before dawn when she finishes reading the entirety of it and she feels some sense of emptiness when she does.

The last entry wasn’t even finished; The page is only filled halfway and the last sentence hasn’t been concluded.

She frown s , wondering why he never got to finish it. And that’s when she sees it —

Letters started to form on its own at the middle of the page, forming the words as through the entry is still being written.

_ Kill the boy,  _ _ Maester _ __ _ Aemon _ _  had  _ _ told me _ _ ,  _ it said.  Sansa keeps  starig  in  confusion  and  the words  keep  coming.  _ Kill the boy and let the man be born. _

She freezes  on the spot,  sure that she’s hallucinating.

She shut the journal. She’s tired; she’s probably just imagining things. Tomorrow she’ll see that the page is still half empty, because it can’t possibly be writing itself.

Except she finds another entry the next morning.

She stare s  at it for a moment, unsure what to do. The entry is short and factual, just notes from what she assumes was a council meeting.

She’s sure it wasn’t  there last night, and she sees that the last entry has been finished when she turns to the previous page.

S he spends the rest of the day distracted. In between activities, Sansa would go up to her room to check the pages to see if anything new has come up. Finally, after hours of obsessing over the damn thing, it happens again. Letters started to appear on the new page as she stared.

Instinctively, she grab s  a pen from her study table and intercepted the writing.

_ Hello? _ She  writes .

Nothing happens for a while  and  she considers that she might actually be going crazy, but new words come after a moment.

_ Who is there? _ It replied, the writing slow and evidently hesitant.

She’s definitely losing her mind.

Sansa  takes  a deep breath. Okay, here we go.

_ I’m Sansa. You are? _

_ It’s  _ _ Jon. Where are you? How are you doing this? Why can’t I see you? _

_ I’m in Winterfell. You’re Jon Snow, aren’t you? _

__

_ I am. How do you know? _

_ Well... I learned about you in history class. _

_ History class? _

Sansa  stops for a moment to think . She’s still not sure if she believes this is all actually happening, but if it is then it’d be rude to spoil his life for him.

Finally, she writes:  _ I’m from the future. You’re... you’re a part of history in my time. _

_ You must be kidding. _

_ Why would I be? This would be a peculiar joke, don’t you think? Also... what could be a better explanation than what I said? _

_ Many other explanations, actually. Some sort of blood magic, for one. A man was recently murdered by a shadow baby in the  _ _ Crownlands _ _  so anything is possible, really. _

_ Okay, well...  _ _ I’m _ _  obviously not a shadow baby. _

_ Alright, then. Prove it. Tell me something no one else in my time would know. Then I shall see if I believe you. _

Sansa sighed, thinking about it. From what she’s read of his journal so far, she has a rough idea of things that may happen in his timeline soon, but it would be crazy to tell him anything that might alter the course of events or whatever.

It’s a crazy situation to be in and she should really just leave it alone, maybe even put the journal back where she found it, but she finds she doesn’t want to.

_ You’ll just have to believe me,  _ she finally writes after a moment, unsure how else to respond.

She waits to see if he will write anything else but he doesn’t. She closes the journal after a while and stays up thinking about it all night until she falls asleep.

The first thing she does upon waking up is to check if he’d written her back, and feels a smile erupt on her face when she sees that he did.

_ I guess I have no choice but to accept this as fact until I learn otherwise. _

They continue corresponding after that. For some bizarre reason, Sansa can’t make herself stop writing to him. As surreal as the situation is, it feels like he’s the realist thing she’s ever had in her life.

Mostly, they talk about the differences in their time. She knows most of what he tells her since she’s studied it in school, but he, on the other hand, is completely fascinated with the things she tells him.

_ But, Sansa... how in the world can this ‘car’ move without a horse? _

She smile d . They have gone over this many times; she’s tried to explain it to him in  so  many different ways but the concept of electricity and machines still eludes him.

_ I wish I could just show you, _  feeling that same knot in her stomach every time she remembers that it’s not possible.

_ I wish you could too. I’d love to see how much has changed in your time. And also to see you, of course. _

Days turn into weeks then into months and suddenly he’s more a part of her life than she ever expected.

_ Sansa, may I ask you something?  _

She takes a deep breath. This is how he starts the conversation when he’s about to ask her something delicate.

She tries to answer all of them as well as she could but it’s still difficult to not give anything away.

_ Of course. What is it? _

It takes a moment, and then he writes: _  In your history, did I do my duty well? _

__

She blinks. They rarely talk about what she knows about him from history, mostly because she doesn’t think she should, but the question makes her worry.

_ Why do you ask? _

__

_ I fear that I’m not a suitable ruler. _

__

_ Did something happen? _

__

_ Aye. _ __

He doesn’t elaborate and she has to wrack her brain for what he’s not saying. It’s then that she realizes how close they are to the end.

King Jon, according to their history books, died only a year after his reign. Filled with envy and hate, his brother  Aegon  had sent an assassin into the North to poison him in his sleep, resulting in his death and the inevitable war that followed.

She doesn’t know how to respond to him now and the time she spends staring at the page on the journal is apparently enough for him to know something’s wrong.

_ I’m sorry to ask _ , he writes. _  I couldn’t help it. You don’t have to answer. I know you’re careful about these things. _

__

She is . The thought  makes her feel sad. She has the power to help him change everything, to make sure he survives his assassination and continue to make the North the kingdom he envisions it to be —

But everything that happened was meant to happen, and helping him could mean a whole new different reality.

She might not even exist in a world where he survives.

_ I wish I could see you. _

The words  sends  butterflies flying in her stomach despite the circumstance.

It has been months since they’ve met; he’s almost a year into his Kingship and Sansa knows they’re running out of time.

_ What do you look like?  _ He writes again.

She  bires  her lip, trying to come up with an answer. It feels odd, explaining this to him from a time of cameras and the internet. She has a rough idea of how he looks from the history books but it never occurred to her that he  wouldn’t  know how she looked like.

_ Well... I don’t really know how to explain it. _

_ I guess it is odd to ask.  _ _ i _ __ _ woudn’t _ _  know how to describe myself either. _

__

_ You don’t have to. I already know. _

__

_ Oh, right. I’m ancient in your time. _

__

She smile s .  _ You’re still handsome in my time. _

_ Am I? How do I look in your books? Grey haired and wrinkly? _

Her smile immediately disappears at that. She’s gotten to know him well enough to understand what he’s trying to do.

He’s trying to fish for clues.

_ Jon. _

__

_ Aye. I know. I’m sorry. _

She sighed.  _ I’m sorry too. _

*

It’s Arya who first notices something odd going on with her. Granted, she’s the only one who would notice since it’s only the two of them in King’s Landing.

It’s Sunday night and she’s staring gloomily at an old history book with Jon’s image pulled up. It’s a drawing, to be exact, made by an artist from his time that have been copied into history books.

He looks somber in his picture; a King instead of the boy she’s come to know. Her heart aches to think that his remaining days would be spent with the burden of leadership instead of the freedom of youth.

“Okay, what the hell is up with you,” Arya  asks loudly , slipping into the empty space next to her. “You’ve been staring at that book for hours and you’re looking at it all weird.”

“I’m just reading. How am I looking at it weirdly?”

“Like it’s breaking up with you,” Arya points out. “You’ve been acting weird since visiting home. Are you alright?”

Her sister has never been so outright with her concern, which means Sansa must really be worrisome.

She feigns a smile. “I’m fine, Arya, just... I have something on my mind.”

“Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

She  shakes  her head. “I doubt it. I barely know how to make sense of it myself.”

Still, Arya doesn’t relent. “Is it about that book you have with you all the time?”

Sansa  turns to her sister  in surprise. “What?”

“You’re not that subtle, you know. And Robb said you took it from the museum.” She didn’t even think Robb would remember it. “No one’s been looking for it so I think you’re fine - but you don’t seem fine.”

“Well...” she gives her sister a long look, trying to think if she should say it or not. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

But she does.

Arya seems to be skeptical at first, which is understandable, so she  shows  her how  the whole thing  work s.

_ Hey, Jon _ , she  writes  on the blank page of the journal and new writings emerge just a moment later.

_ Hey, Sansa. What is up? _

The text makes her smile. She’d tried to teach him modern slang but it always comes out more funny than natural, even in writing.

She turns to her sister who’s staring at the journal in confusion. “What the hell?”

_ Nothing, _  she writes back to inform Jon so he’s not confused.  _ I just missed you. _

It’s then that Arya turn s  to her. “Please tell me you’re not dating a magical book.”

Sansa smile s  despite the hollow feeling in her chest. “I’m not and he’s not technically a book. I told you, he’s Jon Snow.”

Arya  makes  a face. “This is too weird. We should ask Bran.”

“Bran?”

Arya shrug s . “He likes these stuff, doesn’t he? Maybe he’s read about it somewhere.” When Sansa doesn’t look convinced, Arya pulls her up. “Come on, it’s worth a try.”

Apparently, Bran does know something. It just doesn’t make much sense to her and Arya.

Sansa didn’t even think he’d believe them, but more than that he’s taking responsibility for it.

“This is my fault,” is the first thing he says as soon as they finish explaining via video call. “I must’ve done something wrong while I was there.”

“What?” Sansa asks her brother in confusion. “What do you mean while you were where?”

Bran looks at her, evidently unsure how to answer. “It’s hard to explain, but — “ he wince s . “I don’t know how to fix it. I’m not good at flying yet and  Bloodraven  would kill me if he found out I messed up.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Arya burst out, just as confused. “What’s this flying and  bloodraven  thing? You’re not making any sense.”

Bran  huffs . “You won’t believe me even if I told you.”

Arya  rolls  her eyes. “Bran, our sister is literally dating a damned book from however long ago. I think I’d believe anything at this point.”

Bran doesn’t seem too convinced but sighs in resignation. “Fine, I’ll tell you.” He  pauses , thoughtful. “Remember how you guys tell me I can be a know-it-all sometimes? Well, that’s basically because I do know it all.

“It started about a year ago after I moved to the Wall. This guy  Bloodraven  started teaching me how to - well, how to fly. Not normal flying, though... more like flying in time. I can see everything that has ever happened in the world - but I’m not as good at it yet.”

Sansa  blinks .

She may have been talking to a person from over a hundred years ago, through a book she’d found underneath said person’s statue, but time-travelling seems a bit too extreme.

“Okay?” Arya  says  slowly, obviously trying to make sense of it. “And... and you think you must’ve done something - “

“I may have flown without supervision a few times, including that time we snuck into the museum,” he explain s , letting Arya off the hook for not knowing exactly what to say. “I’m sure I did everything right but it’s still tricky... Jon’s time is complicated.”

“How is it complicated?”

Bran  sighs  again and thinks for a minute before explaining. “Okay, essentially, what I’m doing is magic. It’s old magic that I’m not supposed to have but it found me?” He made a face. “Anyway, this magic comes all the way back to the First Men, back when the Children of the Forest still thrived in the North. Overtime, magic started dying. Maybe because of the  Andal  invasion, maybe because of something else, but — the point is, the magic died.”

“Then how are you doing magic then?” Arya  asks , unable to help herself.

“It’s a different conversation altogether that we would have to discuss another time. Anyway, Jon’s time is just before the end of an Era. Historically speaking, it’s the period where the old empire was torn down by the hidden Stark Queen, but it also meant tearing down all the magic with it.

“Which means, magic from that time would cling onto whatever they can to survive. For example, me. The magic must’ve sensed me while I was there and I somehow brought it to this time.“

Arya  makes  a face. “This is giving me a headache.”

“Bran, if — “ Sansa swallows. “If you were able to bring magic back here, would you — does that mean you can bring back a physical being, too?”

Arya  narrows  her eyes at her. “You don’t mean Jon Snow, do you? Sansa, that’s insane.”

“Well — it wouldn’t really change history, not if we do it after his supposed death. We could, I don’t know? Fake his death then bring him back here.”

Arya  stares  at her for a moment but then turns to Bran. “Could we do that?”

Bran  makes  a face. “I don’t know, it’ll be dangerous. If I make a mistake, I might erase our existence. I’ll have to practice and — I’ll have to think about it.”

It’s all Sansa would ask  s o they leave it at that.

A few days later, Bran calls her. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

It takes a second to understand what he means but he’s looking at her so gravely that she realizes what it is.

“Yeah?”

He  nods . “Jon Snow was always my favorite in history, it’d be pretty cool if I get to save him.”

Sansa  smiles . “Yeah, it would. Are you sure?”

“You love him.”

He says it like it’s fact, but it comes as a surprise to Sansa. She’d never really thought about it before but —

It’s true, isn’t it? That’s why it hurts, knowing he would be gone soon.

Bran proceeds to explain to her what will happen and though it still feels surreal to her, and vaguely confusing, there’s really no choice but to accept it as reality.

Weird is it is, it is reality.

They don’t have a lot of time before Jon’s assassination so they have to work fast. She resolves to tell Jon that same night.

 

_ Jon, are you there? _

 

_ Yes. What is it? Are you alright? _

__

_ Yes. Would you - _

__

She  takes  a breath and  tries  again: _  if I told you that I found a way to bring you to my time, would you come to me? _

_ Of course but... how would it be possible? _

__

_ My brother, he’s... well, I’m not entirely sure what he is but he says he can bring you here. _

__

_ That doesn’t make sense. _

__

_ I know. Believe me, it sounds crazy where I’m from too but I think he’s legit. _

__

_ Legit? _

__

_ I mean, I think he’s telling the truth. _

__

_ Okay. How is it possible then? _

__

_ With magic. _ __

__

_ You mean blood magic? That’s dangerous, Sansa. _

_ No, not that. I don’t even know what that is. I think he means a good type of magic. It’s hard to explain but he says he can travel through time. _

__

_ Huh. _

She smiles at that. She can imagine he’d be skeptical of the whole thing but so far he seems to be taking it pretty well.

_ Do you think I’m making it up? _

__

_ No. I have seen crazier things. When can I go then? _

She chews on her lips. She would’ve definitely liked to avoid this conversation.

_ Not until a few more days, we have to time it properly _ . She takes a moment before she adds:  _ We’ll have to do it at the time of your death. _

Jon doesn’t reply immediately, which is enough time for Sansa to worry.

_ Jon? _

_ It’s my brother, isn’t it? _ __

He’s told her all about his brother and how hard  Aegon  took it when  Rhaegar  had given the North its independence and made Jon a King.

She also knows it from history, but it seems too painful to tell him the truth.

The way he talks about his brother, it never seems like he hates  Aegon . He always sounds so sad about it.

So she feigns ignorance, for his sake.

_ What do you mean? _

__

_ The one who kills me. Is it my brother? _

__

_ No. An assassin. According to history, you were poisoned in your sleep. _

__

Jon doesn’t reply after that and she knows he doesn’t buy her explanation.

In truth, it was never revealed who hired the assassin, but everyone whispered it was the Dragon King who did it.

Soon after Jon’s death, he’d tried to bring the North back into the Seven Kingdoms but, rising from the snow, a long-hidden Stark had revealed herself to be a wolf, and she’d single-handedly reassembled the North as a center of power, free of the Dragon’s grasp.

*

“Are we supposed to do something?” Arya asked uneasily, frowning at Bran. “He looks creepy.”

They’re back at the museum after hours, having flown all the way home as soon as they could to help Bran however they can.

Sansa  turns  to her brother. He’s seated near the  Weirwood  tree and if you don’t look carefully, it just looks like he’s sleeping. But since she’s looking closely, there’s no mistaking it.

His eyes are open but there is only white where his  tully  blue orbs should be. It looks unnatural, and Sansa doesn’t like seeing his brother this way but Bran had assured them that he’ll be fine.

“I think this is normal,” Sansa says, chewing on her lip. “Do you think this is a stupid idea?”

“Honestly? It’s less a stupid idea than it is crazy.” Arya paused. “How does it feel like to be meeting your boyfriend for the first time?”

Sansa  rolls  her eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Seven hells, you mean to tell me you’re willing to mess with the space and time continuum for this guy and you can’t even admit he’s your boyfriend?”

“I don’t even think he knows what boyfriend means,” Sansa admits with a smile.

Arya snorts. “This is so crazy.”

Suddenly, the leaves of the  Weirwood  tree starts to ruffle; gently at first and then wildly, making Arya and Sansa cling to each other in surprise.

“Okay, is this supposed to happen?” Arya  asks her  loudly, the tree’s movement making so much noise that it’s hard to hear.

“How would I know?” Sansa  shouts  back.

“Well, you’re the expert in all this next to Bran,” Arya reason s,  which sounds accurate but still untrue.

Sansa stumbled upon all this accidentally. She has literally no clue of what the hell is going on aside from finally meeting a boy from the past that could potentially be her boyfriend.

It’s all insane to her.

Suddenly, Bran gasp s  out loud and the  Weirwood  stills. The  Godswood  is quiet once more and the pair of them come to approach him expectantly.

He looks exhausted and he takes a long breath before turning to Sansa.

“He’s in the Crypts. Go and get him.”


	2. Chapter 2

Though Arya and Sansa act as though he’s some sort of expert in all this, Bran is actually still just beginning to learn about his capabilities.   
   
In fact, if he were an expert, Sansa would’ve never been able to contact King Jon in the first place, but there they are.   
   
He will freely admit that it is his fault; he was curious about the King and he didn’t take Bloodraven’s warnings seriously — but, really,  who wouldn’t want to check out the Dragon era, if they could?   
   
So he went theredespite the warnings and had brought back some sort of enchanted book with him.   
   
And his sister just happened to fall in love with its owner, who also happened to be Jon Snow. As in the King in the North from over a hundred years ago.   
   
Bran would like to say he doesn’t know how that happened but he actually does, and now he has to figure out the best way to deal with all of it.   
   
According to Bloodraven, when Bran had vaguely asked about it weeks ago, there have been instances where a Raven had brought back items into the present, like Joramun’s Horn and other magical items that have disappeared from history, but those items need to be magical in itself for it to be transported.   
   
Bran would guess that Jon’s journal is magical; MaesterAemon Targaryen is said to be the one who gifted it to him and while Bran could theoretically fly in time to fact check it, he really has more pressing concerns.   
   
For example: how in the seven hells is he supposed to bring a fully-grown man from the past into the present?   
   
Maybe it would work if Jon is magical, and Bran knows he is. He’s a warg, and he’s already been brought back to life by a Red Priestess. He’s pretty much oozing with magic, but still —   
   
Bran’s not sure how the whole bringing things to the present work. He didn’t mean to do it the first time.    
   
It takes practice and help from Jojen before he finally manages to intentionally bring a magical item into the present.   
   
There’s not much logic to the process, if he’s honest. The only other time it worked was when the specific item had something tethering it to the modern world.   
   
Like the journal.   
   
The journal is a real thing that Jon Snow wrote, though it was never found. Samwell Tarly had ordered for it to be buried at the foot of Jon’s statue, right where Sansa found it, but it wasn’t magical before.   
   
Bran merely activated its magic without meaning to, when he went back in time that night at the museum.   
   
And he thinks he can use that same ‘logic’ with bringing Jon into this time.   
   
Jon’s bones would be entombed in Winterfell’s Crypts, just as all the old Northern Kings, and that’s what tethers him to this time period.   
   
It doesn’t sound simple but once Bran had successfully practiced the theory a couple of times, he finds it easy.    
   
Probably even the easiest part of the plan.   
   
What he has to figure out now is how to fake Jon’s death, which he thinks is much harder than movies make it out to be.   
   
“I’m sorry to ask but why do you think we’ll have any helpful opinion about this?” Arya asks on video, frowning. “We literally have no clue what’s going on.”   
   
Fair point, Bran thinks, but it’s better that they’re on the loop.   
   
 Besides, it’s not like he’s got any ideas himself. He has zero clue as well.   
   
“Jon mentioned something to me before,” Sansa speaks up finally. “Something called blood magic? Do you have any idea how that works at all?”   
   
Bran sits up, turning to Jojen from behind the laptop. There’s an idea.   
   
“The red priestess,” Jojensays, startling her sisters.   
   
“Wait, who’s that?” Arya asks in confusion. “Is somebody else there?”   
   
“Yeah. My roommate, Jojen. He’s helping.” Bran turns to Jojen again. “Do you really think the Red Priestess would help?”   
   
“She might, if it’s to serve the Prince.”   
   
And thus a plan is hatched. Bran travels back to the time just before the Red Priestess left Winterfell after her banishment.   
   
“You do not belong here, child,” she says as she stared into the fire, not even looking.   
   
Bran looks around, confused for a momentuntil she finally turns to him. Bran feels a chill run down his spine; he’s seen her before but he didn’t dare come close. He could tell that she knew something was amiss when they first crossed paths, and this confirms it.   
   
He swallows. “I came here to ask for your help.”   
   
She tilts her head, studying him for a moment before she turns to look at the fire again. “Yes, I see. I know what you want.”   
   
Bran keeps quiet, just watching her warily as she goes to retrieve something from the bottom of her bed.   
   
She takes out a piece of ruby and whispers a prayer into it. The ruby glows a deep red as soon as the Priestess finishes her chant and that’s when she turns to Bran again.   
   
“This is what you need. When the time comes, have the King draw his blood upon the stone and the charm shall work.”   
   
Jon isn’t King in this timeline yet. But she knows.    
   
Bran blinks, a bit confused. “What does it do?”   
   
She rubs the stone of the choker around her neck, almost unconsciously, and Bran realizes it immediately. “The assassin?”   
   
She nods. “A life for a life — to save the King.”   
   
   
   
   
   
Jon   
   
   
Jon’s remaining days in the realm can best be described as bittersweet.   
   
Some part of him wishes he can accomplish more; he has a lot of hopes for Winterfell, a lot of tasks he has yet to accomplish.    
   
And now he has the knowledge to change the course of events - to see it all done.   
   
But he’s come to accept that the Kingdom is not for him to save; he had done what was needed of him and now it’s time to leave.   
   
There’s comfort in knowing he will still see what resulted of all this - and see the woman he loves as well.    
   
“Your Grace,” Maester Tarly calls for his attention, bowing as he approached. “You called for me?”   
   
Jon rolls his eyes. His friend likes his courtesies no matter how many times Jon asked him to stop. “Have our dinner served in my solar. I’d dine with my oldest friend tonight.” He pauses before handing Sam a sealed paper. “Send this to my brother. Have it delivered by your slowest Raven.”   
   
Sam gives him a funny look but doesn’t comment. “As you wish. Your Grace.”   
   
Jon continues his walk around Winterfell, trying to remember as much of his home as he can. This shall be the last time he sees it.   
   
The thought sends a sharp pang into his chest.    
   
He’d not lived there for long but nowhere else has felt more like home; the place reminds him of people he’s never even met. A mother, an uncle - a family that would have raised him with honor and duty to his people.   
   
The memory of his family, of the stories his bannermen would tell him of the Starks, is what drives him to rule his kingdom justly.   
   
And it’s for this same reason his people have come to accept him.   
   
Sam is already in his solar when he arrivesand Jon could not help but smile at him. He met the man when his father had sent him to the Wall to answer the Lord Commander’s call for help.   
   
Sam had named himself a coward, and Jon had naught a choice but to stand up for the man.    
   
Thus began their friendshipand now he serves as Jon’s most trusted advisor.   
   
They dine as they normally would, discussing the tasks ahead of them and things that Jon still needs to do.Hhe knows that there’s no need for it, he shall not see these things done either, but arranging the plan still brings him some comfort.   
   
At the end of the night when his friend is about to leave, Jon couldn’t help but stop him.   
   
“Thank you for your council, my friend,” he says with a sad smile, patting him on the shoulder. “I will forever be grateful to have made your acquaintance.”   
   
Sam frowns. “Are you alright, Jon?”   
   
He lets out a laugh. “Am I such a bad friend that my gratitude comes unusual?”   
   
San gives him a sheepish smile. “Of course not. You just seem... more melancholic than usual.”   
   
That night, he meets Sansa’s brother.   
   
He appears in the middle of Jon’s chambers, and though he had been expecting the man, seeing him there still startles Jon.   
   
“You must be Bran,” he says slowly. He looks familiar, Jon thinks, but he can’t place the memory to the person. “Have I met you before?”   
   
Bran gives him a sheepish smile. “Yeah. A few months ago. You tried teaching me how to shoot an arrow, you probably won’t remember it, but - “   
   
The memory kicks in. “No, I do. Brandon of Wintertown.”   
   
Bran grins, his face lighting up. “Yeah. That’s me. I knew you were my favorite hero for a reason.”   
   
Jon laughs, pleased. “Glad to hear it. So, what’s the plan?”   
   
“Right. Do you have the ruby?” Bran asks him.   
   
“Aye.” He retrieves the item from his desk.   
   
It had been a peculiar request to dig it up from the Crypts but Jon assumes the boy would explain why.   
   
“So, here’s what you need to do...” Bran looks at him uneasily. “You have to - kill your assassin.”   
   
Jon frowns. “Alright. But then I wouldn’t be poisoned?”   
   
“That’s where the ruby comes in,” Bran continues to explain. “It’s charmed. All we need is a body for it to work, which is why we need the assassin.”   
   
“How are you sure the charm would work?”   
   
Bran makes a face, he seems conflicted. “Because the person who charmed it is pretty legit.”   
   
“Legit,” Jon repeats, making himself smile.    
   
Sansa likes to use the word as well.   
   
“Yeah, legit,” Bran repeats, more slowly. “As in legitimate.”   
   
It makes him smile wider and the boy gives him a funny look.   
   
“I understand,” he replies immediately, clearing his throat.    
   
He must seem crazy, reacting like that to a word.   
   
If he’s completely honest, he’s ecstatic to get this over with. The knowledge of his impending assassination is a burden off his chest once he’d come to terms with it.   
   
All he can think of now is Sansa and the thought of finally meeting her after many moons spent wondering if it’s even possible.   
   
Now he knows that it is possible and he can’t wait.   
   
   
*   
   
   
The next thing Jon remembers is waking up inside some sort of box; it’s pitch black and he feels suffocated but there seems to be no way out.   
   
He starts punching the wood in the hopes of finding some weak spot but the material is tough to go through.   
   
His first thought is that their plan has failed; he’s not entirely sure what’s meant to happen after they’ve killed the assassin but he can’t even remember any of that happening.   
   
He coughs. The inside of the box is too dusty to bear so he stops trying to punch a hole for a moment.   
   
That’s when he hears it; It’s pretty quiet at first, the sound of people bickering in hushed tones. Then —   
   
“Jon?”   
   
He perks up, punching the walls again to make a sound.    
   
“Sansa?” He asks loudly. “Is it actually you?”   
   
“Yeah, it’s me. Hold on, keep making noise so we can find you.”   
   
So he does.   
   
   
   
   
   
Arya   
   
   
“What if he turns out to be a skeleton?” Arya asks on their way to the crypts.   
   
It’s a valid question and it feels like none of them have addressed it beforehand.   
   
The book looks exactly as it did because it was kept in good condition, but Arya assumes it would be different for a human man.   
   
Bodies deteriorate, doesn’t it?   
   
Sansa, of course, doesn’t respond.   
   
“Seriously, though,” Arya insists. “What if?”   
   
“It won’t be like that,” Sansa says with enough conviction that Arya almost believes her.   
   
But it’s not like she really has better knowledge of this whole thing than Arya does. It’s all pretty insane to the both of them.   
   
Walking ahead of her, Sansa stops. “Do you hear that?”   
   
Arya listens. “Yeah.” Someone, she assumes Jon, is banging on wood. “Where do you think he is?”   
   
The place where they store the bones looks ancient; it’s off-limits for public viewing but they know the bodies are there.   
   
The museum didn’t want it to be moved.   
   
It looks like a mess to Arya and she wonders just how many skeletons there are in there.   
   
“Jon?” Sansa calls.   
   
Almost immediately he responds. “Sansa? Is it really you?”   
   
Sansa’s eyes widen and runs off to start her search. “Yeah, it’s me. Hold on, keep making noise so we can find you.”   
   
He does and Arya starts looking as well. It takes a bit of effort to locate him because the sound bounces around the area, but thankfully they find him.   
   
“Over here,” Arya calls when she finally finds the source of noise.   
   
Sansa comes over and they have to remove the box on top before they manage to pry Jon’s casket open.   
   
“I really hope he’s not a skeleton,” Arya says, unable to stop herself.   
   
“Please stop talking about skeletons when we’re surrounded by tons of them.”   
   
“Right.” Arya grabs the cover. “Here we go.”

And while Arya was expecting something to go wrong — it wasn’t, well...  _ that _ .

She snort s  just as Sansa quickly took off her jacket to help cover him up.

 Apparently, though Bran had managed to bring Jon into this time completely intact, his clothes are not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Jon**  

 

Jon spends the entire journey to King’s Landing wide-eyed and alert, fascinated with everything he sees as Arya speeds through what she called the  _highway_  

In Jon’s time, it’s called the King’s Road. But it looks so different now that Jon almost did not recognize it. 

Next to him, Sansa is in deep slumber. Their fingers are intertwined and he’s afraid to let go in case this all turns out to be a dream. He squeezes her hand gently before turning to look at her; seeing her for the first time shocked him to the core. He’d not expected her to look so…  _familiar_. 

He pushes the thought away for now, content to let himself get lost in his fascination with this strange new world. 

“Did Sansa tell you that you’re known to be the best swordsman of all time?” arya breaks the silence after a while. 

She’s at the front seat, driving what they call a car. He’s discussed the vehicle with Sansa before and it’s much better than he envisioned when she tried to explain it. 

He feels himself smile. “Am I?” 

“Yeah. Better than Arthur Dayne, even.” She pauses. “Would you teach me?” 

“To fight with a sword?” Jon asks her, curious. “I thought Sansa said people don’t do that anymore.” 

“Well, not for real, no. It’s more of a hobby now.” 

Jon thinks it over. “I’d be honored to teach you.” 

She turns to look at him, grinning happily at him before turnig back to the road. “I’ll hold you to that. And also – you should know I’m a black-belter. That means I can kick your ass without a sword if you ever hurt my sister.” 

Jon cannot help but smile. “Understood.” 

Sometime later, though Jon’s not sure how much later, Arya finally wakes Sansa and they switch seats. Sansa asks him to sit at the front next to her so Arya could sleep at the back. 

“She has exams tomorrow. For school,” Sansa explains, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. “Or later, I guess. It’s not just because I want you next to me.” 

He smiles, taking hold of her hand once more. “Well, I’m only here because I want to be next to you.” 

They arrive in King’s Landing much sooner than he expected; he almost doesn’t believe they’re there if not for the fact that everything about the place screams the Crownlands.  

It’s different from the land he remembers but somehow remarkably the same. The heat is as bad as he remembers and his bones ache to be back North. 

He’s not lived in Winterfell for as long as he lived in King’s Landing, but being back there reminds him that time does not matter – the North is his home. 

Sansa leads him the establishment where she lives. Arya heads into one of the chambers as soon as they get there, leaving Jon and Sansa alone. 

Everything about the place fascinates him and he’s got questions about everything, but it all escapes him as he stands there with Sansa.  

He takes a deep breath before speaking. “My Lady, might I have a word with you?” 

She tilts her head, curious. “Yeah, of course.” 

He nods, summoning some courage. He comes to approach her and takes her hand to his own.  

He’s given this some thought, of course he had. He would not have come into this strange time if he wasn’t sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life here with her. 

His Bannermen would be livid if they knew; they’d spent the better part of his reign trying to get him betrothed to one Northern daughter to another, a bid to make it clear that his heart is to the North. He’d kept refusing, convinced he must prove his loyalty on his own. 

And here he is now, doing exactly what they wanted. Except he wants this too. Very much so. 

“I – My Lady Sansa, not even a day has passed and my entire world has already turned upside down, but -- I’ve come here in this strange place because of you.” He offers her a smile. “With the hopes of spending the rest of my existence with you, however long that may be. And so I would like to ask for your hand in marria – “ 

Of all things he did not expect, Sansa starts coughing as though she’s choking on air. He starts to worry, unsure of what to do until she stops to let out a nervous laugh. 

“Uh, just give me a second.. um, how do I explain this?” She’s flushed, her skin turning red down to her neck. “I appreciate the thought, but, um.. well. Okay, so, in your time if you like someone, you marry them, right?” 

Jon nods, nervousness seeping into his skin now. Had he been wrong all along? Did she not love him as he loved her? 

“Well, here if you like someone, you date them. You know, to get to know them better. You don’t really marry them right away.” She gives him an awkward smile. “When you’re sure you want to be with them, you become boyfriend and girlfriend first.” 

Jon nods slowly. He thinks he understands what she means. “And then you get married?” 

She doesn’t choke this time but she does laugh a little. “Sure, but that comes  _much_  later.” 

“Alright… then I would like to do that. I mean – “ 

“You want to date me,” she finishes for him and he nods dutifully. 

“Aye, My Lady. I would like to date you,” he tells her. “May I?” 

She grins at him. “I’d like to date you, too.” 

 

 

 

 **Sansa**  

 

Sansa twists on her bed, covering her face with a pillow in a bid to muffle her squealing. The butterflies in her stomach are fluttering so wildly she can barely contain herself.  

He just kept calling her  _My Lady_  and said all these cheesy things that made her heart flutter. 

She bites her lip, trying to remind herself that this is all real. That it’s not a dream. It definitely feels like it is, but she’s held his hand. She’d felt the calluses on his palm and the soft pressure of his hand on hers.  

He’s  _real_. 

After Joffrey, she was so sure she wouldn’t meet a decent guy that could make her feel like this. Apparently the universe said  _fuck_ _that_  and gave her Jon. 

It takes a while to fall asleep, her mind replaying his attempted  _proposal_  over and over again. 

In the morning, she tries to figure out a plan as she made breakfast for herself and Jon. If she’s honest, they didn’t really think past getting him to her time. They were all too absorbed with making sure Jon didn’t die in his time for any of them to wonder what happens when he does get here. 

By the time she’s done preparing breakfast, Jon is finally awake. She’s sitting by the counter so she sees the moment confusion hits him, wondering where the hell he is. Then, after a moment, the confusion clears and he looks around to find her. 

He smiles at her sleepily when he does spot her. “Sansa.” 

Hearing him say her name like that, his voice low and gruff, awakens the butterflies in her stomach. She likes when he calls her  _his_  Lady, but hearing him say her name like that is definitely much better. 

“Good morning,” she greets him with her own soft smile. “I made breakfast.” 

They eat together as she tells him the agenda for the day; she doesn’t have a class until later in the day so she figures they can roam around the city for a bit and buy him some stuff he’ll need. 

They leave sometime after lunch and head to the grocery first to buy him the necessities. Then they go shopping for his clothes. She can tell he’s confused about a lot of what’s going on but he tries his best to keep up. 

“Are you sure this is alright?” He asks her as he looked at himself through the mirror. He’s trying out the jeans and shirt she’s picked out for him. “Am I not a little underdressed?” 

“No, you’re fine. If you wear any more in this heat, you’d pass out.” 

He tugs at the shirt. “I just feel a bit improper wearing only this in front of you.” 

She stifles a smile; it’s not like she hadn’t seen him truly underdressed. In fact, he’d been naked the first time she saw him. The image is floating in her mind as they speak. 

Still, she lets him off the hook. She knows he’s used to traditional customs. “I don’t mind, Jon. And it’s not improper at all.” She points out a random guy outside the boutique wearing a similar attire as him. “See, everyone here wears it the same way.” 

Jon concedes after a bit more encouragement and they pick out a few more clothes for him before finally deciding to call it a day.  

They grab lunch near her university as they wait for Arya. Apparently, her sister knows a guy who can make fake documents for Jon and put into the government’s database. It’s a bit extreme and worrying that Arya would know people like that, but what else can Sansa really do but go along with it? 

As though her luck for the day has finally run out, Joffrey and his crew enters the diner they’re in just as they start to eat. 

“Fuck,” she curses under her breath, looking down to avoid unwanted attention.  

Despite the fact that they’ve been broken up for almost a year now, Joffrey still never misses an opportunity to make a scene to embarrass her. He just doesn’t know how to leave her alone. 

“What is it?” Jon asks, worry clear in his voice.  

“Nothing. I just saw someone I was hoping to avoid. Don’t mind me, I’m – “ 

“ _Joffrey_.” 

Sansa suddenly looks up in surprise. She doesn’t remember ever telling Jon about him, she was careful to avoid the topic of her asshole ex-boyfriend, so she wasn’t expecting him to know his name. 

To Sansa’s further confusion, Jon keeps glaring at Joffrey as though there’s some deep resentment there. 

“What – “ she frowns, trying to make sense of it. “Jon, do you know him?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. Sooooo sorry for making you guys wait so long for an update. I'll try to update more regularly hahaha.


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